Human Inside
by Shakespeare's Lemonade
Summary: Steve suddenly loses his abilities and reverts to the way he was before, weak and powerless. But he gets some help-mostly unwanted-from Tony, Bruce, Thor and the rest to see that he is still a part of the Avengers and very important to them. Canon pairings. Work in progress. Constructive criticism appreciated.
1. Prologue: Reversion

Human Inside

Shakespeare's Lemonade

Rating: T

Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Adventure

Summary: Steve suddenly loses his abilities and reverts to the way he was before, weak and powerless. But he gets some help from Tony, Bruce, Thor and the rest to see that he is still a part of the Avengers and very important to them.

A/N: I wanted to see what it would look like if Steve were normal again, how he would react, and what the others would do.

Canon pairings. Others to be announced if I come up with any.

Thanks to my beta reader, Riter's Fury, as well as my best friend and my sister: obbits14 and Sylar Bartowski.

_**Prologue "Reversion"**_

Steve didn't get sick. He never hurt for longer than a day. Gunshot wounds were never infected; scars always disappeared. His team followed him, and their enemies feared him. He may not have been happy about being thrust into a new century, but at least he had his place in it. His life made sense.

Until it didn't anymore.

It started with a strange, sporadic ache in his muscles, which was foreign enough. It would often show up after an intense workout or long battle. It always went away within 24 hours. Then it didn't. Nothing he tried made it stop. Steve told Dr. Banner about it and he tried to find an explanation in his research about Dr. Erskine, to no avail.

Eventually, it got to the point where Steve couldn't get out of bed. He couldn't move without feeling like he would pass out from the pain. Bruce was his most constant companion, though Natasha came and went to see how he was doing. She always seemed very worried, but she never said so.

Steve didn't see many of the others, but he understood that. It was an awkward situation. No one knew what was wrong with him. Director Fury sent the best S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors, but none of them could find any answers.

Conversations were few and far between with only Bruce and Natasha for company. Bruce just didn't talk that much, and of course, Natasha could not show weakness, even if it were in concern for someone else. She did ask Steve a question once.

"Have you ever had anything this bad before?"

Steve didn't answer as he tried to remember a time he felt this much pain. He couldn't think of any; it had been over seventy years.

But the answer came one night when he woke in the middle of the night. Sleep had been his only release, and he had been getting plenty of it, but at that moment, everything became clear. The last time he had felt so much pain was during the transformation in Erskine's lab. He had never told anyone just how bad it was, or how hard it was for him to tell them not to stop. This was worse.

It wasn't until voices filled the dark room that Steve realized he was screaming. But he couldn't stop. It was as if his body were eating itself from the inside. He couldn't think, couldn't focus. The voices continued, maybe two or three. Steve couldn't tell. It could have been one person talking to himself for all he knew.

And then it got worse. The feeling of being eaten turned to one of burning and pressure. If Steve had been able to form a coherent thought at the time, he would have thought that this was far worse than the transformation, and it was lasting much longer too.

Steve felt something heavy across his chest, making the pressure worse, but this was something on the outside. Someone holding him down. Through the haze of pain, Steve felt cold, sticky sweat all over his skin, and saw the briefest glimpse of a face.

Thor. What was he doing there? The confusion temporarily distracted Steve from the mind numbing agony of whatever was happening to him. It was Thor who was holding him down, probably to keep him from hurting himself by thrashing too much. Or hurting anyone else.

For a moment the pain dulled to excruciating, and then there was nothing.

Steve dreamed that he was back in Brooklyn in the late 30s. He was in high school, the scrawny kid everyone picked on. He was small for his age even then. Most well-meaning adults thought he was about twelve. But he made it out in one piece and went on to art school. No one picked on him there. They were all outcasts or oddballs of some form. Then the war started.

Steve dreamed that he was in recruiting lines again. He dreamed of being rejected over and over because he was too small, too weak, too sickly. He dreamed of finally making it because Dr. Erskine saw something in him no one else did. Steve dreamed that he was everything Erskine thought him to be, that he stayed the same inside.

He dreamed of being a tiny man on a strange bed, waiting for something to happen.

When he woke, it was no longer a dream.


	2. The Inside

**A/N: ****Thanks to my faithful beta reader, Riter's Fury, for reading pretty much everything I ever write. Also thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I appreciate your comments and enthusiasm.  
**

**Just in case of confusion later, ****Drachenzähne or "dragon's teeth" are anti-tank fortifications used extensively in Germany during WWII.  
**

**Chapter One "The Inside"**

It didn't hurt anymore. Steve opened his eyes, but the lights were too bright. He closed them again, but not before he saw that he was not alone. Bruce was standing at the foot of his bed, and there were others in his peripheral vision whom he didn't get a good look at. He brought his hand up to his eyes, but it felt wrong. His fingers, his arm, his face, everything felt wrong.

Or maybe it didn't feel wrong anymore. And that was the problem. He had been used to feeling so unlike himself, that the reversion was like being thrown forward in time all over again. Only this was going back in time. Back to the real Steve Rogers that he was always afraid everyone would see. The little kid who didn't really know what he was doing.

Finally Steve opened his eyes again, able to stand the brightness. Aside from Bruce, the other inhabitants of the room were Tony, Thor, and Natasha. They all stared at him as if unable to blink. No one said anything. No one seemed to breathe.

Bruce had a look of resignation in his face. Like he knew things were bad, but there was nothing to be done about it. He looked like a doctor about to tell a patient some negative but not life-threatening news.

Natasha looked scared. As if up had suddenly become down, and everything she knew was just the opposite of what she thought. Her mouth was set, but the muscles in her cheeks twitched ever-so-slightly as she tried to hide any emotion.

Thor's eyes looked sad, sympathetic. It was as if he knew what was happening to Steve and had felt something like it before.

But Tony. He was indignant. He glared. His eyebrows were knit so tight that it looked like it hurt. His face seemed to say that this wasn't happening; it wasn't fair.

Steve took all this in over the course of a few seconds. As his eyes came back around the room, Bruce shifted on his feet.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, hesitant, cautious.

Steve hadn't really thought about it. But as soon as he did, he knew exactly what to say. "Normal."

The previous tension was lifted and replaced by another feeling of collective unease.

"Define 'normal'." Tony's voice sounded almost accusing.

Steve knew what normal was. "Normal. Like I've always been."

"Always...?" Natasha almost whispered.

"The way I was until about three years ago—well, what I remember as three years. I feel normal." Steve pulled the blanket over himself further, knowing everyone was looking at him and disliking it immensely.

"Are you—" Bruce halted. "—okay with it?"

Steve turned over on his side, facing away from them. "I'm fine." He kept his composure better not looking at them. "Please leave."

"Are you sure?" Bruce asked. He sounded like the concerned doctor.

"Yes."

Tony was less subtle. "Cap—"

"I said I'm fine!" Steve resisted the urge to turn around, to tell them never to call him that again. He knew he wouldn't keep it together if he did. He just needed to be alone. He heard them all moving to leave. Somewhere in his mind, he registered that Thor hadn't said anything and he still didn't know what the Asgardian was doing here.

"I'll try to find you some clothes," Natasha said as she closed the door.

Then he was alone. Steve wrapped his arms around his torso under the blanket, feeling his ribs like rows of dragon's teeth. The air coming in and out of his lungs felt heavy, full of lead and blood. He realized he was starting to hyperventilate, and in the process of trying to calm himself down, stray tears made their way down his face.

He had never cried about being weak. Not when the other boys in school pushed him, stole his lunch, laughed at him, made him bleed. Not when the Army rejected him five times. Steve Rogers didn't cry about silly things like that. He cried when Bucky died. He cried on the radio with Peggy the last time he heard her voice. Those things were important. Being stronger than everyone else wasn't.

But he remembered Tony's words in one of their many arguments: _everything special about you came out of a bottle_. He probably didn't mean it, but it was true. Without Dr. Erskine's serum, Steve wasn't special.

_A weak man knows the value of strength_. That was very true. And now he had lost it.

**.A.**

True to her word, Natasha found some clothes for Steve, probably from the teen section at the store because they mostly consisted of baggy jeans and bright colored t-shirts with various characters on them he didn't recognize. But they fit, and Steve decided that even though he didn't want to talk to anyone, he had been in his room far too long.

When he came to the main living area of the recently renamed Avengers Tower, Tony and Bruce were sitting at the counter on barstools while Thor and a woman Steve didn't recognize were sitting on the couch. Natasha was nowhere to be seen after dropping off Steve's new clothes earlier, and he hadn't seen Clint in several days.

Once again, everyone stared. It wasn't like last time where everyone expected him to look different. It was more like he had suddenly turned into someone else, when in reality, he had just turned back into himself.

"Hungry?" Tony asked, standing up and moving toward the kitchen as if to change a subject that was never spoken.

"Not really." Steve knew his voice sounded exactly the same as it did before, and that might be disconcerting.

"You should eat," Bruce said. His tone sounded sorry to be agreeing with Tony.

"Fine." Steve didn't want to argue. He sat down next to Bruce and saw the scattered papers they had been studying before he came in. "What's this?"

"Nothing," Bruce said quickly.

Tony made a snorting noise as he shuffled through a cupboard. "Calculations." He closed the door and turned around to face the others. "Trying to figure out what happened to you and how to reverse it."

"That's what _he's_ trying to do." Bruce jerked his thumb at Tony. "I just want to be sure you're okay."

"So you think it's permanent?" Steve looked over the papers, but couldn't make sense of any of it.

"I don't know. But considering the pain you went through to get to this point, I don't think we want any repeats."

"It was worse."

Tony seemed to forget whatever he was doing and came back over to the island. "What do you mean 'worse'?"

"Than the first time. I remember it because it wasn't 70 years ago for me."

Tony spread his hands. "So whatever happened to you wasn't just a reversal of the effects of the serum?"

"There's no way to know that, is there?"

"Actually, there probably is," Bruce said, but he seemed reluctant.

Steve looked over at him. "You don't sound pleased about that."

"Whatever the explanation is, it might not be good or... 'fixable'."

"Again with the scare quotes." Tony rolled his eyes. "Why am I the only one here with any optimism?"

"Optimism for what?" Steve asked. "Because if it is just the serum wearing out, then I guess it was fun while it lasted, and now it's over."

"Really? Is that all you have to say? You're Captain America!"

"No I'm not." Steve struggled to keep his voice even. "That's him, that—" Steve gave Bruce an apologetic look. "—other guy."

Tony didn't seem to be paying attention. "Am I the only one who finds this disgusting resignation unacceptable?"

"Yes." Bruce shook his head. "A lot worse things can happen. I definitely think I should run some tests to be sure this is the end of it, but if it is, then at least there's nothing else to worry about."

"Nothing else to worry about?" Tony put his hands flat on the counter. His arc reactor glowed through his black t-shirt. "Do you guys not see what's going on? This whole thing—the Avengers—all falls apart without him."

"No pressure," Bruce deadpanned, glancing at Steve. "I don't think that's what we need to be worried about here."

"Oh, you mean the fate of the world, safety of the universe sort of stuff?" Tony started pacing. "We don't need to worry about that? Okay, I'll go back to making guns and selling them to terrorist groups. Sounds like a brilliant plan."

"You're being dramatic." There was a warning in Bruce's voice, but he wasn't looking at Tony.

"Let's not talk about this," Steve said, hoping to end the argument there. "It's strange enough as it is."

"Right." Tony put up one finger. "I was going to make you breakfast."

"It's lunch time," Bruce said.

"Considering he hasn't eaten in a few days, I think I'll call it breakfast."

**.A.**

Tony always took forever in the kitchen, which Steve didn't mind because he really wasn't that hungry. He left the kitchen area and wandered over to the half circle of couches where Thor and the strange woman had been sitting quietly all this time. Thor was dressed in normal Earth clothes, and the two of them had their hands resting next to each other on the couch between them.

The woman stood up as Steve approached. She wasn't very tall, but she was pretty and had a kind look in her eyes. Unlike the others, she wasn't staring. She was coming to introduce herself.

"I'm Jane Foster." She held out her hand. "You must be Captain Rogers."

That name. "Just Steve." He shook her hand, and they sat down again, Steve across from them. "It's nice to meet you, Miss Foster."

She smiled a lot. "You can call me Jane. Thor asked me to come when he decided to stay here. And the chance to work with such _distinguished_ people was hard to pass up." She looked over at Tony and Bruce, who were deep in conversation, ignoring the rest of the room.

"So what do you do, exactly?"

"I'm an astrophysicist. You know, space, stars, all that."

"So you know about the aliens?"

Jane smiled and glanced at Thor. "Yeah, I know about the aliens."

"Do you work for S.H.I.E.L.D too?"

"Off and on. I prefer to maintain my independence, and we didn't exactly get off on the right foot."

Steve laughed. "Tell me about it." Then he looked at Thor. "I didn't know you were staying."

The Asgardian nodded. "I arrived when you were ill. Things have been settled in Asgard, and my father agreed that I should remain on Earth."

Steve didn't miss the brief but meaningful look Thor gave Jane, and he knew she was the reason he wanted to stay. Or one of many.

For a moment, Steve wished he had been given a choice and a reason to leave his home behind for another world. But he couldn't dwell on it. It wouldn't do any good. He could at least be happy that Thor was better off than he was.

So far, Steve felt like he had done very well with the whole losing his powers thing. He had always felt a little uncomfortable in that body. At least, that's what he had to keep telling himself. He didn't think he had ever been strong, so how could he lose what he never had.


	3. Doodling

**Chapter Two "Doodling"  
**

After almost an hour talking with Thor and Jane, Steve looked over to the kitchen area to see Tony setting piles of pancakes, eggs, and bacon on the counter. He stared for a second, then got up and crossed the room.

"You know I can't eat that much anymore?" he said.

Tony looked up from pouring coffee. His blinked twice. "Oh." Then he got out more plates. "Anyone else hungry?"

Thor and Jane joined them, but Steve didn't miss the way that blank stare lingered in Tony's face when he thought no one was looking. Steve was starting to think that his reversion might have bothered the others more than him.

They ate at the table in silence. Bruce was still sitting at the counter making calculations of some kind. Steve understood why he wouldn't want to attempt the experiment again. It might not turn out so well this time. Steve had a hard time believing that it was his innate good character alone that produced such results. And Bruce couldn't have been such a bad person that he deserved to turn into the Hulk. It seemed worse than how Schmidt ended up, and he wasn't just flawed; he was evil. It had to be about more than character.

While he seemed to be all for trying the experiment again, Tony was downright awkward around Steve. Maybe that was part of it. Maybe the new—or old—Steve unsettled him. Steve could think of several reasons for this. Tony had implied that he had heard a lot about "Captain America" from his father. Maybe seeing Steve the way he was before brought back unhappy memories. Steve didn't try analyzing it any further. Tony had always been a mystery to him, and maybe it was best he stay that way.

Steve didn't miss the fact that Thor had been quieter than usual. He remembered feeling the strong arms holding him down when he was in the middle of losing everything. He wondered why Thor had even been in the room. Why anyone had been there, really.

Over lunch or breakfast or whatever it was, Jane and Tony talked about things Steve didn't understand, probably because he wasn't trying. The scientific jargon became white noise. He could almost have fallen asleep to it.

Steve looked down at his plate and saw that he had only eaten half of the small portion he took. But he was full. He looked around the table. Thor had eaten most of the food, while Tony and Jane seemed to be ignoring them.

"You are not hungry?" Thor asked.

Steve turned his attention back to the Asgardian. "No." He pushed his plate toward Thor. "You can have the rest."

"I do not want it."

Thor refusing food was a new twist. Steve looked him in the eye, and it was clear something was bothering him. He looked sad.

"Do you miss your home?" Steve asked.

Thor seemed genuinely surprised by the question. "I'll warrant I do, but I had not thought on it much."

"Oh. Is something else bothering you?"

"You are very perceptive Captain."

Not really. Thor was an open book. "It's just Steve."

"Perhaps that is what troubles me."

"You mean that I'm back to normal?"

"That you continue saying 'it is just Steve'."

Maybe Thor wasn't as obvious as Steve thought. "I... Well, you're my friends." It was a lie, and he knew it showed on his face, but Steve couldn't quite admit the real reason he didn't want them calling him Captain anymore.

"I once had to learn a very hard lesson which you never will," Thor spoke like he was telling a story, and Steve had no idea why.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Humility." Thor gave a sad smile. "I was not like you. I wanted people to honor me. I wanted glory in battle, not for being on the right side, but for the battle itself. My father sent me here as a mortal so that I would learn what true leadership is. You never needed that lesson."

Steve didn't know what to say. Thor was complimenting him while at the same time revealing his own faults.

Thor went on. "But there is something I possessed in abundance which you could use now."

Steve looked down at the table. He moved his fingers in circles. "What's that?"

"Confidence. In the battle against my brother, you were fearless. You lead your troops without hesitation. Why are you now uncomfortable with us calling you Captain?"

Thor took a long time to make his point, but maybe that was what Steve needed at the moment. He certainly wouldn't expect such delicacy from any of the others.

"I don't know," Steve finally said. It wasn't exactly an honest answer, but he didn't know how to explain why he didn't want them calling him that anymore. Steve grew up in a time when people didn't analyze their own motives and feelings. They didn't have time for one thing, and they didn't think it was important. They might have been wrong. He still wasn't used to it.

Thor went on talking. "Do you think that a man's worth is dependent on his size or his strength? Some of the greatest warriors I know have little of either. At least in the physical sense. And you were a great man before you became 'Captain America' or you would not have wanted to fight and die for your people. Are you not still the same man?"

Steve smiled sadly. "That's Steve," he said. "Not the captain. Just me."

"But the captain is you. The name is not important."

"I'd still like it if you'd call me Steve."

"Very well." Thor nodded. "I will try to remember to call you Steve."

**.A.**

Other than the ubiquitous bickering of Tony and Bruce in the background—which made Steve intensely uncomfortable—things remained quiet in the Tower for the rest of the day. Jane and Thor talked about space stuff that Steve didn't understand, but they were easy to listen to. At one point, they started drawing maps on pieces of scrap paper on the coffee table. At least, Steve thought of them as maps, because they didn't look anything like the charts of the solar system he had ever seen.

As he watched them, Steve picked up a stray pencil and started doodling on the corner of one of Thor's first "maps" that they no longer seemed to need. He realized that he hadn't drawn at all since he woke up from the ice. It came back easily, but his hand wasn't as confident as it used to be. Still, he managed to block out the sounds of voices and shuffling papers around him and just focus on the page.

Steve only stopped drawing when he noticed his eyelids drooping. He was tired already from doing nothing. It wasn't as strange a feeling as it should be.

"Who's that?" Jane's voice brought Steve out of his thoughts. She and Thor were looking at the drawing he had just finished.

Steve looked at his work. It was a little more than the simple sketch he meant it to be. "Colonel Phillips," he said. "Looks a lot like him, anyway."

Jane reached for the picture to get a better look at it. "It's very good. Where did you learn that?"

"Before the war, I was in art school. It's been a while though."

"Who is Colonel Phillips?" Thor asked.

"He was..." Steve stared at the picture. He didn't know what made him draw Phillips. He hadn't thought of him that much since waking up. Not like he'd thought about Peggy, Bucky, and Howard, anyway. "He was in charge of the super soldier project. He never went easy on me because I was small. He threw a grenade in the middle of a bunch of us just to see what we would do."

"What did you do?" Jane asked.

Steve felt his face getting hot. He didn't mean to tell this story; it just sort of slipped out. "I—I jumped on it. It was a dummy."

"But you didn't know that?"

Steve shook his head.

Jane nodded and didn't say anything more. Beside her, Thor didn't look the least bit surprised.

**.A.**

Tony Stark did not avoid things. Well, he did, but he never admitted it. But with a massive problem he couldn't fix literally staring him in the face, Tony was left with little recourse. He knew Steve would resent being thought of as a problem needing to be fixed, but Tony always thought like that. He often considered himself an amalgamation of spare parts in need of a little tweaking now and then. Steve needed more than a little tweaking.

It was easy to argue with Bruce. Not that Tony didn't respect "the Other Guy," but it was safer—in Tony's mind—than trying to talk to Steve. Tony thought that way under normal circumstances. Normal being superhuman Steve, not the admittedly original, but much wimpier version. It was backward, and Tony knew that. He had heard all about the shock and awe of seeing the little guy turn into the super soldier. Howard had recounted that particular story many times. Tony suspected it was his favorite.

When Steve said he was tired at three in the afternoon, Tony thought to be concerned, but he let Bruce be the one to ask. If he wasn't worried, Tony wouldn't be. Well, maybe a little. Steve said, not in so many words, that they should get used to it.

Tony frowned as Steve left in the elevator. He certainly did not plan on growing accustomed to this. Tony was a very stubborn person, and he always—or almost always—got what he wanted. And if he had his way, Steve would be back to normal in no time. He just had to keep thinking positively and somehow convince Bruce that replicating the experiment was a good idea.

That was the hard part. Convincing Bruce. And maybe thinking positively was getting more difficult lately for some inexplicable reason.

After Steve left, Tony decided he would try to get some work done. He didn't announce his departure to the others, but he felt their curious stares as he got into the elevator without so much as a "see you later." He needed to think, and to think, he needed space. Lots of space, and solitude.

Contrary to popular belief—or just his own assertions—Tony did not actually know anything. Which meant that if he wanted to replicate the super soldier experiment, he would have to do some research. And he knew where he had to start with that.

He had mostly avoided his dad's stuff after fixing the arc reactor. He didn't need to look too deeply into the past after that. But now, it was necessary. Howard was really the only connection they had to the original experiment, and considering how he wouldn't shut up about Captain America, he probably kept pretty detailed records of everything he knew.

At least, Tony hoped so. Otherwise, there was no way he wanted to study the reason he never knew his father. He would be sure not to mention that little tidbit of information to anyone, especially Steve. Not that he wanted to talk to Steve anyway. It was just too weird.


	4. If He Be Worthy

**I know it's been forever since I updated this story, and I don't know if this chapter's any good, but I got some inspiration from a couple of conversations I had with other authors. Who knows where we'll go from here?**

**Chapter Three "If He Be Worthy"**

When Natasha picked up Clint from S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters, he could tell something was up. She wasn't normally expressive, but today, she seemed even more distant than ever. Clint didn't say anything as they got in the car and headed for the freeway. Natasha's driving scared him a little, but he had learned not to say anything about it. His mind was elsewhere, on his recently completed mission, and whatever was going on that Natasha wasn't telling him.

It had been a good ten minutes of silence when Natasha spoke. "There's something you should know before we get home."

Clint stared out the window. "What's that?"

"It's Steve. He's... normal."

"What, like he finally caught up with the 21st century, or what?"

"No, like normal. Not superhuman."

"Wh—How is that even possible."

Natasha shook her head. "The resident geniuses haven't managed to figure that out yet."

"So he's..."

"Shorter than Tony. It's... weird."

"How did it happen?"

"He just, I don't know, lost it. He was in bed for days and it just kept getting worse. At one point, he said it felt like he was being eaten from the inside."

Clint tried to hide a shudder at those words. "Is he okay now?"

"He acts like it. I don't know how well he's taking it. He's got the tough guy act down to an art."

"Better than you, huh?"

Natasha shot Clint a look that would have scared most people. "Tony is acting even more weird than usual. I think it upsets him."

"Anything that doesn't go his way is the end of the world to him."

"Well, this time it might be true."

"What? Nat, you don't think just 'cause Cap's a little shorter he's gonna stop being Cap, do you?"

"He's not just a little shorter, Clint. He's... tiny."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Yeah." Natasha nodded. "You will."

**.A.**

Steve laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He felt exhausted, but he couldn't fall asleep. It was probably a good thing. If he slept now, he might not be able to fall asleep later. His other body didn't have these problems. He could stay awake longer than most people, but it was never difficult for him to sleep at night. However, normal Steve had never been able to make his body do what he wanted it to do. Back before the super soldier experiment, he had tried exercising, getting in shape, but he could never keep it up. He'd get pneumonia or something, and have to stay in bed for weeks. His time in boot camp had been the hardest he had ever worked, and even then, he failed more often than not. After succeeding in retrieving the flag he hadn't wanted to take the ride in the Jeep while all the others ran, but he wasn't sure he would make it back alive if he didn't.

It had always been that way. He was used to it. He had to keep telling himself that. He couldn't admit, even to himself, that he wished he could stay strong and powerful all his life. It was a shallow thing to hope for. It didn't make him a better person, and it might have made him worse. He had to tell himself he didn't want that.

It was hard, though. Steve had grown up in a time when a man's worth was based on what he could do. In some ways, the world still worked that way. And he couldn't do anything of worth. He could draw and paint a little. He couldn't help people like he used to. It was nearly impossible to accept that wasn't what he was meant to do with his life. It was all he ever wanted.

But he didn't admit that to himself. He couldn't.

After a significant period of sleeplessness had passed, Steve decided to venture out into the common room again. He wanted to keep hiding in his room until he made some sort of sense of this turn of events, but he needed to talk with Bruce and eventually Tony. He wasn't looking forward to either conversation, the latter much less than the former.

Bruce was still working at the counter when Steve returned, but Thor and Jane had left and Tony was still gone as well. Steve decided that meant it was time to have the uncomfortable conversation he'd been playing out in his head ever since he woke up.

"Dr. Banner?"

Bruce looked up. His glasses were sliding down on his nose. "Yeah?"

"I wanted to ask you something, and I'd like—I need an honest answer."

"Sure, Steve. Ask away."

Steve sat down beside Bruce. "Do you _want_ to try the experiment again?" Steve avoided eye contact as he spoke. "Because I know what it did to you, and I would never ask you to do it if you didn't want to."

"Where's this coming from?" Bruce looked mildly amused. "I don't want to replicate the experiment. I don't think that's what you need. I do, however, want to be sure you're okay, that nothing else is going to go wrong inside you."

"Thanks for that." Steve finally looked up. "I know Tony will try to come up with a way to _fix_ me. I don't know if I want to take the chance."

"Only you can decide that. It's not up to me, though I'd advise against it. Tony will probably try to badger you into it, but I've heard of your legendary stubbornness." Bruce smiled.

"I'm stubborn?"

"Five tries to get into the Army? Maybe determination. You fight for what you want. Or in this case, what you may not want."

"But what if I do want it?"

"It's up to you."

"I shouldn't."

"Why not?"

"It's selfish, it's..."

"Human," Bruce filled in. "You want to be strong, but you want it for good reasons. For me it was... scientific curiosity."

"That's not a good reason?"

Bruce shrugged. "I don't know anymore. Tony thinks it is."

"Guess you and him are like opposite sides of the same coin."

Bruce looked a little skeptical at that. "Maybe. If you're planning on having this conversation with him, I'd suggest being as blunt as possible. Speak his language, and maybe he'll get it."

Somehow Bruce knew what Steve was planning without having to ask. Sure, the man was a genius in his own right, but sometimes he made people forget by his introverted nature.

Steve smiled. "I don't think I will ever speak the language of Tony Stark."

**.A.**

Tony had been in his private lab most of the afternoon. Thor and Jane had stopped by to discuss various projects, but seemed to weary of Tony's monosyllabic responses. He was too focused on this Captain America problem. The trouble was that Tony wasn't a biologist or a medical doctor. He could pick up a lot of information in a short time, but he'd never done the kind of experiments that led Dr. Erskine to his formula. That was why he needed his father's notes—and Bruce, but Bruce didn't show any signs of helping. Tony was a stubborn guy, but other people's stubbornness irritated him.

When he heard someone come in the door, Tony was hoping Bruce had changed his mind. Turning to see who it was, he was disappointed, and immediately on edge.

"Cap," he said tersely and turned back to his computer screen, hoping the other man would go away.

"I need to talk to you, Tony."

Hearing that voice from that body was wrong. Tony was glad he wasn't looking at him, though he could see a faint reflection in the monitor.

"You don't have to look at me," Steve went on. "I just wanted to say that you can do all the research and experiments you want, but I don't know if I would do it again. Just fair warning."

"What are you talking about?" Tony turned around, unable to have this conversation with a computer. "You don't _want_ to get back to normal?"

"You're not understanding me. _This_ is normal."

"I can't accept that."

"Well, it's the truth whether you believe it or not. I'm sorry the universe doesn't comply with your childish need to be right."

"_I'm_ being childish? I'm not the one pouting because he lost his big muscles. When something goes wrong, you don't just lie down and take it. You figure out a way to fix it. I should even have to be telling you this."

There was a long pause as Steve seemed to be weighing his next words. "I'm not one of your machines, Tony. I'm a human being, and sometimes you can't fix those."

Then Steve turned and left the lab. Tony got the feeling he hadn't said all he wanted to, but he wasn't going to chase after the little guy. He could barely look him in the eye as it was, and he'd just made it worse with the argument. He reminded himself that everything would be fine once he found a way to return Steve to his rightful state. There was no other option.

**.A.**

Steve returned to the living area. Thor and Jane had returned in his absence, and Bruce was sitting with them, no longer studying his notes.

"How did it go?" Bruce asked as Steve sat down beside him.

"Couldn't have been worse."

"I doubt that."

"Well, if aliens had attacked, I suppose, but baring any supernatural interruptions, no."

"What exactly are you talking about?" Jane asked.

"I was trying to explain to Tony that other people have opinions."

"That seems a fruitless endeavor," Thor said.

Steve smiled grimly. "I knew that going into it. Had to try."

"He still wants to replicate the experiment?" Jane said.

Steve nodded. "I didn't think I would change his mind. I don't think anyone ever has. But I didn't think he'd be so..."

"Impossible?" Bruce guessed. "You really should have known."

"Yeah." Steve fell silent.

For a while, no one said anything. Then Thor decided to change the subject. "Jane and I have been discussing a trip to Asgard," he said. "Now that we have repaired the Bifrost using the tesseract, I can more easily travel between worlds. We thought perhaps you might like to accompany us."

Steve looked stunned. "Me? Why?"

"Something to take your mind off things," Jane said.

"And get away from the tension," Bruce added. "That can't be good for you."

"I—guess you're right," Steve said. "I just never considered visiting another planet, or world, or whatever."

Thor grinned. "Then it's settled. We are to depart in the morning." He then got up from the couch and headed for the kitchen in search of a snack. His abruptness was sometimes unsettling, but refreshing in it's own way.

Steve realized what he had just agreed to. This morning he woke up as the little guy from Brooklyn, and tomorrow he was going to travel to outer space. Perhaps it was time he accepted that his life never was, nor ever would be, normal.

Feeling a bit hungry himself, Steve decided to follow Thor. As he passed between two couches, he almost tripped over Thor's hammer. Without thinking, he bet down and picked it up.

"You should probably be careful where you leave this," he said.

Thor turned from the refrigerator to see what Steve was talking about. His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened. Jane and Bruce stared as well.

"What?" Steve said, not realizing what he had done.

Thor found his voice again. "None but I can lift Mjolnir," he said. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" Steve asked. "It's not that heavy." He swung it back and forth.

"There is a sort of spell on that hammer. Only those worthy of the powers I posses my wield it."

Steve put the hammer down on the floor again. "Wait. Does that mean...?"

"It means that we could not have planned our journey at a better time. My father will be able to answer this riddle."


End file.
